With a swift, half-angry, and most ungodlike abruptness he raised the girl, yanked her into the circle of his arms, lowered his face to hers.
"All right, then!" he yelled. "I'm tired of arguing with you. I'm a god, then, if that's the way you want it!"
And spurred by impulse, by a hunger whose depth even he had not realized, his lips found hers bruisingly, crushingly ... warmed themselves at the swift-fanning blaze which wakened beneath them. For a moment in which Time itself ceased to exist he felt the oneness of their pulses pounding like myriad hammers of flame. Then he released her, spun to confront those about him.
"Is there any other," he demanded, "who would like to take Rodrik's place?"
His question brought neither defiance nor avowal, but something more astonishing. It brought—surprise! The eyes of Rodrik's erstwhile lieutenant lifted, and his voice echoed bewilderment.
"But, no, my lord," he said for all. "Who would lift a hand against you now? You are our ruler."
Steve stared at him in amazement.
"Come again? I'm your—?"
"Our new ruler. But, of course, my lord. You have bested Rodrik of Mish-kin in the trial by combat. Henceforth we follow your commands. It is the Law."
Chuck chortled delightedly.